


Maelstrom

by QueenForADay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, And Hannibal Has To Be Restrained Because Alpha, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Childbirth, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Feral Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, Mates, Muzzles, Newborn Children, Omega Will Graham, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Post Mpreg, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Restraints, Will Gives Birth, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenForADay/pseuds/QueenForADay
Summary: The nurse squares her shoulders. A brave woman, facing down a distressed Alpha separated from his labouring mate. Then again, she probably can’t smell the scents souring the air inside the room.“Your husband is ready to see you,” she says, a small smile ghosting her lips. She takes a step inside. Brave woman, not only facing down an enraged Alpha, but a hunter. A maelstrom of thought swirls around; plans to hunt those who kept him from Will, other assurances that what he’s feeling is just hormones, and that Will is fine because of those said people—The nurse lifts her hands, gesturing to the muzzle holding his jaw shut. “I can take it off of you now,” she explains, “just as long as you agree that your walk from here to your husband’s room is a peaceful one.”
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 516





	Maelstrom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HigherMagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/gifts).



The silence is deafening. Out in the halls, he can pick out muffled conversations and announcements echoed overhead. They pulse against his ears. Hospital ward sounds that fade into the background as he strains to hear Will. The screams cut deeper than any knife ever will. Every lash across his skin dug deeper and deeper with every fumbled step he was dragged away.

He fought. Of course he did. No sane Alpha would ever part with their mate, unless something, or someone, interfered.

The metal and plastic and rubber sitting in his mouth are almost suffocating. The scent of it alone, mixed with the sting of disinfectant in the halls, coats the roof of his mouth and turns his nose. The harness digs into his skin and his teeth gnaw against the bit.

His hands are free; trembling and fidgeting with everything but the harness’ buckle sitting at the back of his head. Some small sliver of logic whispers to him that it’s just for a moment, for the safety of others, and the safety of his _mate_ while they work on him.

And the logic cowers as whatever primal, vocal part of his being snarls and stalks. Whatever that sane part of him can whisper against the shell of his ear, it will always be chased away by the same part of him that sends him into ruts and leaves his reason at the door.

So he paces, and listens. All the while his jaw flexes against the bit caught between his teeth and a harness keeping his mouth shut.

He’s away from his mate.

And his mate is in distress.

And the silence stretching out over him is too much—

“Doctor Lecter?”

His pacing falters. He reels around, looking to one of the many doors that stand between him and Will’s side. A nurse steps through the door, a hand clasped tightly around the handle, ready to pull it shut if the alpha inside the room lashes out. A security team is probably waiting outside in the hall, ready to intervene again if needs be.

That logical, sane part of him rears its head. _Settle._

The nurse squares her shoulders. A brave woman, facing down a distressed Alpha separated from his labouring mate. Then again, she probably can’t smell the scents souring the air inside the room.

“Your husband is ready to see you,” she says, a small smile ghosting her lips. She takes a step inside. Brave woman, not only facing down an enraged Alpha, but a hunter. A maelstrom of thought swirls around; plans to hunt those who kept him from Will, other assurances that what he’s feeling is just _hormones_ , and that Will is fine because of those said people—

The nurse lifts her hands, gesturing to the muzzle holding his jaw shut. “I can take it off of you now,” she explains, “just as long as you agree that your walk from here to your husband’s room is a peaceful one.”

There’s definitely a team waiting outside in the hall. Hannibal’s ears twitch at the sound of people shuffling around outside. Their footfalls are too heavy to belong to scrub-clad nurses and doctors.

Maroon eyes regard the nurse for a moment – a colour made all the more deeper by the swirling emotions and hormones flooding him. It started the very moment when he surfaced, his nose wrinkling at a change in scent. He’s known Will long enough to know what he smells like, no matter what state he’s in. The usual scent changed; it soured and twinged with something that had sleep washing off of him as he nudged his mate awake.

It was time.

Hannibal’s jaw flexes. He eventually nods.

The nurse is slow with her movements, not unlike approaching a wild animal. And maybe, at one point during their evolution, that might have been the case. No matter how many generations pass through the aeons, something primal will always remain. And he’s gone much of his life ignoring it, pushing it to the side because it was a great inconvenience.

Then Will broke down those walls and let his feral nature loose, engulfing the both of them.

A low growl clambers up his throat when the nurse slips behind him. His hands clench into fists by his side at her fingers deftly unlatching the buckle. At the slightest hint of give from the muzzle, Hannibal reaches up. The nurse backs off as he wrenches the godforsaken thing off, clamping down on the urge to fling it across the room and charge for his mate.

He shifts his jaw, letting the ache slowly work its way out. The harness sits heavily in his hand. The rubber bit is imprinted with teeth marks, impressions left behind from just wanting to gnaw at something to take the edge off. Every primal, deep-set part of him screamed to claw and bite and roar. Maybe all those aeons ago, held up in a cave somewhere, when it would have been just the two of them, he could have fought off wayward intruders.

But nowadays, he understands the measures taken by hospitals to keep their staff alive and in one piece. They had the same thing in John Hopkins. Sometimes the Alphas of families hearing unfortunate news turned feral.

He turns to the nurse, a small courteous smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he rumbles. His voice will be changed, altered to be a pitch recognisable by their baby. And the thought of it has his blood beginning to curdle again. He wants to see them. And Will.

The nurse lifts her chin. “Come with me,” she says, already leading them out of the room.

He winces at the sharp, bright light out in the hall. The noise is almost too much; staff and visitors chattering among themselves, the distant cry of other labouring women and omegas. He catches the inside of his cheek between his teeth. _Will_.

They can’t weave through the halls quick enough. It’s a typical labour ward – painted dust pastels and with overtly friendly and calm-speaking midwives and nurses who drift between rooms. A few of them glance at the alpha being escorted by one of their own, and a small army of security guards trailing behind them. But no one looks surprised. Or even bothered. The speed in which guards flooded Will’s room and clamped his alpha’s jaw shut to stop him from lashing out only tells him that this is a regular occurrence.

At the sight of Will’s room door, his heart leaps to his throat. He has to stop himself from rushing past the nurse and bursting in himself.

The nurse stops just outside of the room, peering in the opened door and greeting who Hannibal can only presume to be a colleague. She gives a firm nod to whoever is inside before turning back to him. “Alright, you can go in.” The silent threat lingers. _But behave, or we’ll take you away again._

The second he steps into the room, his hackles fall. A familiar scent twinged with sweetness coats the roof of his mouth and settles on his tongue. He takes a breath of it, letting it bloom through him like sunlight warming a room.

A gentle thrill calls for him. Hannibal’s eyes dart to the bed. Amid machines and monitors and IV stands is his mate, propped up against pillows, guarding a white bundle against his chest. Hannibal’s feet carry him over. He practically falls into Will’s side, a gentle rumble rattling out of his throat to mix with his mate’s own sounds. A nurse and midwife still remain in the room, strategically keeping themselves as far away from the mated pair and their new pup as they can. Eventually, they leave the room with muffled footfalls and the softest of clicks when the door shuts behind them. 

A tired, worn-out smile tugs the corners of Will’s lips. “What was all of that about, doctor?” a light huff of a laugh slips out of him. A tiny whelp escapes the bundle in his arms; one snapping Will’s attention back, earning a small thrill out of his throat.

Hannibal hums, utterly lost of where to look. “I may have let instincts get the better of me. I apologise, darling.” His gaze eventually settles on the small, clenched fist that wiggles free of the bundle of blankets. One of Will’s hands, pinned with a cannula, gently pries the blanket away. A small, red face peers out. Still wincing at being hauled from a quiet, safe place into a world such as this; but Hannibal’s breath catches in his throat at how rounded their cheeks are, their pursed lips and squinting eyes. Even the faintest of sand-coloured wisps dusting the crown of their head.

He’s aware of Will’s eyes on him, blearily watching him for anything to slip through that impenetrable wall he shields himself with. But the omega knows all too well that he’s chipped enough of those bricks years ago to have that wall crumbling and cascading down. A new pup is the last blow, sending dust and debris to the wind. He swallows against the lump trying to lodge in his throat.

Will’s smile only grows when their pup reaches out and nabs one of his fingers. They’re so small, barely wrapping around his fingertip. “A girl,” he whispers, suddenly mindful of the quiet that has fallen over the room. Monitors whirl and beep occasionally, but it’s a world different to when they arrived. Pain wracking through Will’s body as labour moved on without him. Growls, snarls, shouts flung down the hall. It was chaos. Will brings the pup closer to his chest, letting her forehead rest against his bare skin.

Hannibal watches, perched by the side of Will’s bed. He looks beautiful; bleary-eyed with shadows clinging to the hollows of his face, sweat-coated curls sticking to his forehead. A show of strength and resilience to bring their child into this world, by himself. Hannibal’s stomach sours at the thought of not being there. The first cry to pierce through the room should have graced his ears too. He should have been there to soothe and gentle and encourage. Those who kept him away rattle through his mind. Faint glances at nametags and a general knowledge of how hospitals and their rotas work—

“Hannibal.”

The Alpha glances to his mate. Any ounce of tiredness that plagued his mate is gone. Or at least, pushed behind hardened blue eyes. Will lifts his chin, challenging. “Don’t blame yourself or others,” he says firmly, the words almost slurring together in a growl.

“Forgive me, my darling,” he dusts a kiss to Will’s temple. “I am only now coming out of the storm.”

Will hums, letting his head fall forward and rest against Hannibal’s. The air sweetens with plumes of Will’s scent drifting around. His usual smell is intoxicating. When he can, Hannibal sets his noise to the join of Will’s neck and shoulder, or to the hollow of his throat. Most nights, curled around each other and sweat beading along skin, Hannibal can’t sleep unless his lungs are full of his mate’s scent.

And it’s all the more sweeter now that a pup is here. She’s a tiny thing, swallowed completely in a swaddling blanket and gentled against Will’s chest. Tired, cut-off whines slip out from between her lips; calls matched by her mother cooing back, gentling, assuring her that she’s safe and they’re here for her.

There’s an unspoken agreement between the two of them. It wasn’t ideal, the pup’s birth. It had been challenging from the moment Will caught the change in his scent. Mornings spent curled around a toilet bowl, gagging at every dairy product under the sun. Swollen ankles and sore feet that found a permanent home on Hannibal’s lap, with the Alpha’s fingers dutifully coaxing out every tense and painful muscle.

But instincts are instincts, and this is their first pup. Their _first_. Whether any more appear, that will be up to Will. Hannibal didn’t think he could have any, being the age he is. And Will isn’t that free from concern either; a body littered with scars and worn out from illness. But here is a pup, healthy and squirming and scowling at the sheer _noise_ of the world and trying to burrow her way into her mother’s chest to escape it all.

“I don’t want to see any of those nurses or midwives on our table,” Will rumbles, just teetering on the edge of slipping asleep, “do you understand?”

A small huff of a laugh escapes Hannibal. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Understood.”

The explanation sits between them. The people who brought him away are the same ones that brought their child into the world; the same people who made sure that Will weathered labour and birth and came out of it unscathed. And despite scenting the tang of blood in the air, his mate’s heart still thumps steadily in his chest, and his eyes are as quick as ever.

Something does linger on the tip of his tongue, peering out between his lips. A mother’s eye looks down at their pup, finally settling in for a short rest as she gets her bearings on the world.

Hannibal purrs. A gentle encouragement. They’re alone now and as soon as Will’s body is able, they’ll slip away with their pup and go back to hiding. But for now, it’s just the two of them. And thorned words and death wishes can be aired. The corner of Will’s lip twitches. “If you’re desperate for a hunt,” he murmurs, dusting his fingertip on the button of their daughter’s nose, “if you want to bring a feast to our table to welcome her into the world, there was a matron who came in to see what all the fuss was about.”

Hannibal’s purr vibrates through the air. While he can be cruel and violent in his own right, Will is even more so. And he suspects being a mother will only hone that urge to snarl and draw blood. The doctor hums. “Oh?”

Something wicked flashes in Will’s eyes. “ _Alphas have no place in a labour ward; especially ones that cannot control themselves_.” He doesn’t distort his voice, knowing that the pup in his arms might just cry at his own normal soothe slipping away.

A low rumbling growl claws up Hannibal’s throat. He manages to catch it behind his teeth, but Will’s shoulders shake in a tired laugh. He nudges his nose against his Alpha’s. “I’ll be out of action for a while,” he lulls, “because your daughter saw fit to not enter this world without a fight.” Will’s lips part, a flash of fangs catches Hannibal’s eye. They’re close, but not close enough to catch Hannibal’s lip as he leans forward for a kiss. Will nudges him back, just so. A wounded sort of noise crawls up Hannibal’s throat. “Will you hunt for me, husband? For our daughter?”

He’ll line their table with whatever they need. Their home, wherever it may be, will be flooded with food and gold and warmth. A deep-set primal urge coils tightly in his stomach. One that sets his blood ablaze and has his throat rumbling. Will has a talent for igniting his blood, careful with plying with just the right words and glances.

The world outside their room, outside this hospital bed, all seems to slip away. Hannibal’s throat bobs. “I will give you everything and more, my love.” He glances down at their pup, nestled in Will's arms. Reaching out, he lets the pup nab and hold on to his finger. Warmth blooms through him. He swallows through a lump in his throat. "Both of you."

**Author's Note:**

> ya'll can blame [highermagic](https://twitter.com/HigherMagic/status/1306654575278141447) for this, her twitter is one big instigation tank xox (real talk though, thank you rowan for giving me permission to write this)
> 
> tumblrs;  
> yourqueenforayear (personal) || agoodgoddamnshot (writing)
> 
> twitter;  
> better_marksman
> 
> Kudos & Comments gladly welcomed x


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